I have to tell you about what happened this morning.
(I promise I’ll post about my Lindy Hop classes soon, but lately WordPress has been my therapy. I just need to vent!)
I got ready for work this morning and turned on Good Morning America and saw that the Backstreet Boys were there, singing “Everybody.” Yay! This is going to be a great day, I thought. Wrong…
I walked down to the busway to wait for my 9:27 bus to the mall. The bus finally showed up around 9:30 (late, as usual), but the bus driver didn’t look like she intended to slow down. She was speeding in the left lane, instead of pulling over into the right lane to pick me up. I started waving my arms frantically, and the bus driver made eye contact with me and pulled into the right lane and slowed to a stop. She was about forty feet past the actual bus stop, so I had to jog down the street to try to get on the bus. There was another girl waiting with me who was also walking towards the door. Then, after sitting still for about two seconds, it was as if the bus driver decided that maybe we didn’t want to get on after all, and she started driving away! My jog turned into a full-out sprint, and I started waving my arms again and yelling for her to wait. There was a man waiting for the bus downtown on the opposite side of the road, and he started waving his arms at the bus driver and pointing at me as if to say, “Slow down! She’s trying to get on the bus!” But it was all no use. The bus driver left me behind in the dust.
What the heck?!
The other girl trying to get on the bus was angry too. “It wasn’t even full!” she said. “What’s up with that?” It was really bizarre that the bus driver acted like she was stopping for us and then just changed her mind. The next bus wouldn’t come for another thirty minutes, and I was supposed to be at work in twenty-five.
I called Justin to see if he could give me a ride. No answer.
I called my work to tell them that I would be running late.
Then I called the Transit Authority, because I was spitting mad, and I wanted that bus driver lady to be officially reprimanded or something. I talked to a guy on the customer service hotline, and he seemed just as confused as I was. “If the bus wasn’t full, then she definitely should have stopped for you,” he said. Then I heard someone talking in the background. “Hey, we just got another complaint from someone waiting down at Bell Station. Bus 28X didn’t stop for him either. We’ll be speaking to her about this,” he assured me.
I felt a little bit better. Until I got a call from work.
“Were you able to get on the bus yet?” one of my coworkers asked me.
“No, I’m still waiting,” I said.
“Well, you don’t even need to bother coming in. We’re just going to call you off today,” she said.
What the heck?!
“That’s interesting,” I said, in my most sarcastic voice, “because they just called me yesterday to extend my hours for my shift today.”
“Well….the thing is,” she started, “They called me off of work today. But I didn’t get my message in time, and I showed up at work anyways. But since I’m already here, and you weren’t able to get here, it works perfectly!”
Yeah, perfectly for you, Chipper Chipmunk.
“Fine! Well that’s just great!” I spit into the phone. I felt a little bit bad, because I could hear my co-worker on the other end trying to placate me. She’s one of those people who just can’t stand to have other people mad at her.
“I’m really sorry about this Rachel! I’ll make it up to you somehow…” she promised in her most earnest voice.
“Fine. Whatever,” I said, and hung up the phone. Sneaky shift-swiper. I bet she’s not sorry at all.
This is one of those moments when I really miss having an actual phone with a curly cord and a base, because hanging up the phone with a loud *BANG* is much more satisfying than swiping a little red button across a touchscreen.
So I walk home feeling angry that:
a) The bus driver screwed me over.
b) My co-worker is a sneaky shift-swiper.
c) Justin didn’t let me borrow his car to drive to work today.
I know…I have no right to be mad at Justin. He didn’t do anything wrong. But anger isn’t always logical, is it?
The thing is, they keep cutting our hours at work. I’m struggling to even work fifteen hours a week, and I’m trying my best to pay off tuition debt from last semester. But when I only make like $70 a week, it’s hard to even make a dent in it.
So I walked home crying, hoping that the cars driving past me wouldn’t notice me wiping away angry tears. Why do girls have to cry when they get mad? Why can’t I just Hulk out instead, and pick up parked cars and throw them across the parking lot in a rage? Why does it always have to be sniffling and sobbing? Ugh.
So by the time I reached home, I decided to start job searching again.
I know, right? Back at square one.
Justin told me that there’s a NOW HIRING sign in front of The Busy Beaver, the local hardware store.
From Backstreet’s Back to The Busy Beaver? How did this day become such a mess?